All I Wanted Was You
by Luminous Luminosity
Summary: Rigby feels a hidden rage toward Margret, and an undying love toward Mordecai. When Rigby suddenly loses control due to Mordecai's obsessive behavior, however, their friendship meets a turning point as Mordecai flees the park in anger.
1. Chapter 1  Secret

Friday, June 8

Rigby tossed and turned under his thin blanket on the small trampoline he called his "bed". He kicked off some of the dirty clothes that he never wore off of it, leaving only the small sheet, a pair of pants and a couple of mismatched socks. Once he found a good and comfortable spot, he lay on his right side and stared straight ahead. First, he found the base of the bed, and then found his buddy, Mordecai, sleeping quietly and facing the wall. He looked cozy on the soft mattress, as he always did; and Rigby watched him before going to bed, as he always did.

It is not that Rigby was being a creep or anything of the matter; he just liked watching Mordecai while he was in his "relaxed" state. He did this for almost seven years of their friendship. It calmed his senses, and it was just about the only thing that allowed him to sleep every night.

But suddenly, Rigby was hit with an unexpected sinking feeling deep in his gut. What if Margaret were to suddenly start sleeping there with Mordecai? What if she would take the place at the edge of the bed where his friend slept? Rigby knew how much Mordecai loved Margaret, and he found it annoying. He looked down. The topic was much too heartrending for Rigby to bear even laying a hand on, but his conscience kept on pressing, fluently attempting to shatter his fragile heart into bits.

Rigby loved Mordecai. He loved Mordecai more than just a "bro"; and in all honesty, he never took a liking to Margaret at all. It wasn't primarily the fact that he didn't like her personality, or her looks, or the way she dressed. He just didn't like anything about her. The cardinal had stolen Mordecai's heart from the day the two met in junior high. Rigby had to bear listening to Mordecai mope about how much he disliked her having so many boyfriends for years on end. Rigby hated hearing all that. He hated that Mordecai was jealous of Margaret's friends, not Rigby's. He hated the fact that Mordecai's heart was broken, because he wished he could just hold him and comfort him. He hated that Mordecai wanted to be in a serious relationship with Margaret, and not with Rigby.

And he detested that Mordecai didn't love Rigby the way Rigby loved him.

Of course, Rigby was unsure if Mordecai was gay or not, but he cared in the least. All that he wanted was for Margaret (or for anyone that Mordecai took interest in, for the matter) to get the hell away from his friend. He wanted Mordecai all to himself, even if Mordecai didn't feel the same way towards him. Rigby just wanted - no, _needed_ - Mordecai to know that he loved him with all his heart, and that he did not want /anyone/ to try and split them apart.

Rigby felt a disappointed frown form onto his face while thinking all of this through. He then heard Mordecai's voice (tired, but comforting). He looked up at his friend and managed a small, yet hopeful smile to emerge on his lips. Mordecai had turned to the opposite side of his body than before, facing Rigby. He was sound asleep, and he was smiling.

"M-... Margaret..."

The crack in Rigby's heart only deepened as he heard those three syllables. His expression weakened before he started to weep silently, hoping not to wake his friend up. Warm tears ran across his face and onto the tightly sprung trampoline. He took his blanket into his small paws and wiped away at them, but they just kept coming. He looked up at Mordecai, his vision blurred by tears. It hurt Rigby's heart to see Mordecai smile while thinking about Margaret, but it also helped get rid of his pain; to see him happy. Rigby's face felt hot as he cried harder while he pressed the blanket to his face. How he wished that he was sleeping there with Mordecai, Mordecai's feathered arms around his small body. But alas, as of now, he couldn't. Not until Mordecai felt the same way... If he ever did...

Rigby cried himself to sleep that night.

Saturday, June 9

The next morning, Rigby woke up before Mordecai, but pretended to sleep anyway before his friend emerged from his slumber. This gave Rigby time to hide his tear stains on the blanket. When Mordecai awoke (finally, after about an hour) they trotted downstairs to have cereal. Mordecai looked at the clock, it was 10:26 A.M.

"Dude, Benson's gonna be pissed when he sees how late we slept in!" Mordecai groaned in displeasure.

"Well," Rigby replied, "its better having to listen to him complain than to have to do work so early in the morning..."

"I guess you're right," Mordecai said before looking at his friend, "Hey, Rigby, are you okay?"

"What?"

"Your eyes are kind of-"

When they heard Benson stomp through the entrance of the house, Rigby quickly got the box of cereal out of the cupboard and Mordecai snatched the milk from the fridge. They made a mess trying to pour the food into the bowls they already set out, but ignored it for the time being.

Benson trended the floor until he reached the doorway to the kitchen and yelled, "**YOU GUYS HAD BETTER NOT BEEN SLEEPING IN BEFORE YOU CAME IN HERE. IT'S ELEVEN O'CLOCK AND YOU HAVE A BUNCH OF WORK TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE!**" His head was a shade of red; that wasn't good.

"Benson, dude, calm down. It's ten-thirty."

"Yeah, and why? Where are you going?" Rigby asked from the table, a spoonful of sugary cereal cramped in his mouth.

"Well," replied Benson, his head turning its natural color, "If you must know, Skips, Pops, and I are going to 'review' other parks to see how much better _we_ are..." Benson smiled triumphantly.

On the inside, Rigby smiled too. He and Mordecai would be able to hang out, watching movies and playing video games and what have you, _alone_. It would be the perfect chance for him. Margaret... That bitchy little-

"Uh, okay. Then why are you taking Pops with you? He'd be just fine here with us." Mordecai's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Mordecai!", Rigby said and scooted over to him as if Benson were no longer in the room, "This would be the perfect chance for us to _par_ty!"

"No! Absolutely _no _parties! If I can't trust you guys with a simple job like getting me a _lemon tree_, I doubt you will have the courtesy to even _think _about how much I would disapprove of a party."

Rigby sighed, "Ugh, fine. No parties, Benny. ...Can you just lend us some extra money to-"

"NO! NO MONEY," Benson was now mad again, "I can't trust you guys with that, either! I pay you enough to get you through the week."

"But we can't even afford freaking cake mix! Come on, Benson!" Mordecai complained.

Benson paused and thought for a moment. He exhaled deeply and said, "... All right, let's do this. I will give you _twenty dollars_ each. You guys can go to the arcade, movies, whatever, but don't screw anything up!"

"Yes!" They replied in unison.

"Just stay out of trouble."

Finally, Rigby would be able to tell Mordecai how he felt... Rigby pumped the air using his fist with an excited "Yes!" and Mordecai noticed his happiness. He smiled a tad at Rigby but the raccoon was too ecstatic to notice. Benson handed them the bills.

"All right guys, you need to get the lawn mowed _and _you need to clean all of the rooms except for Pops's while I'm gone," Benson was still a tad strict although he was cutting the two some slack, "We'll be back on Tuesday."

"You'll be gone that long?" the avian questioned.

"Yes, Mordecai, I will. I am giving you a_ minimum_ of work compared to what I usually give you, so you two slackers better get that done before you forget," Benson took his keys from the counter, ready to head out, "Muscleman and High Fives live right around the corner, remember that."

"Dude, we _know. _Why would we need them anyway? It's not like they're any more responsible than us," Mordecai replied.

"That's not it, Mordecai."

Rigby was confused, barely annoyed, so he joked, "Hey Benson, have you been smokin' some dope much?" He and Mordecai chuckled jokingly.

"No! God, you two are idiots."

"Then, what is it? It can't be that you trust those two more than-"

"Muscleman has a shotgun."

Silence.

Mordecai was surprised that Muscleman even had the right to a concealed weapon at all. All he ever did was crack dumb "my mom" jokes, hang with High Fives, and suck at Strong Johns. How could he even-?

"...Why can't we have a shotgun?" Rigby asked loudly, as for he quickly grew jealous.

"He has a _license_ and-" Benson stopped and exhaled deeply, "Ugh, never mind. Just... stay out of the way. Please."

"Fine!" Rigby replied.

The two friends smiled at each other. They'd have the house to themselves for two-and-a-half days! And with only two chores to do at the very least! They never got out of work like this since, well, never. Benson walked away slowly, hoping that he wouldn't regret leaving his two groundskeepers alone like this. He grabbed his bag that was waiting at the door for him, once again shouted back, "Behave" (which was responded with an exaggerated "Alright!"), and proceeded to his car, which had Skips and Pops waiting inside.

"Dude, this rocks!" Rigby exclaimed to his friend after he heard the door slam, "We're actually having the whole house to ourselves!"

"I know! Dude, like you said, we _need _to have a party." Mordecai said, which made Rigby burst out, saying,"No, Benson would kill us of he found out, " He nudged Mordecai with an elbow, "Come on, let's have some bro-time."

"Hey, man, you were the one who suggested the party in the first place!" Mordecai smiled and punched him in the arm. Rigby laughed while replying with an "Owww!", relieved that Mordecai wasn't angry at him for the comment. Rigby was going to recommend slacking off some more before Mordecai suggested they'd at least get the lawn mowed after eating breakfast before Benson got back. Due to his usual laziness, Rigby scowled at his friend's idea, but then decided to compromise, thinking as they walked out the door:

_Well, since it's with you, Mordecai..._

•••

Rigby hopped onto the lawn mower with Mordecai as he held the handle of the machine after starting the motor. Teamwork was prior when it came to actually wanting to get chores over with. They scanned almost every single acre of the area they were assigned to mow before deciding to take a "quick" break at the local movie rentals. After entering (and a couple arguments and games of rock-paper-scissors over which genre to buy) the two split up, searching for a few good games that they thought were decent enough for playing.

They had played Call Of Duty before in their lives, but never did they play Black Ops or Modern Warfare 2. They just didn't have enough time. And although they didn't have a mic set in order to play live, they could play in regular. Mordecai and Rigby loved playing Strong Johns and Dig Champs a load, but they agreed to open up their minds and play something... fresh, for once. They decided on Modern Warfare 2, and since they heard rumors of how Muscleman (cleverly nicknamed "The Douche bag") played Black Ops day in and day out, playing it was out of the question.

The two allies trotted back to the house and plopped onto the couch. Rigby rested his feet on the coffee table and Mordecai grabbed the remote while saying, "Lets watch some TV before playing... I need a break from video games," He smiled evilly at Rigby, "My thumbs hurt from beating you so much."

Rigby growled in response and said, "I'll beat you in COD, you'll see!"

"Heh, whatever."

The TV clicked on and immediate shouting could be heard from its speakers. These dumb people from Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas; those "cult followers" who hold up signs that say "GOD HATES YOU", or "GOD KILLED YOUR KIDS", or even "DYKE AMERICA", degrading the first amendment as well as disturbing the peace of the noble towns they protested in.

But, even though these entire picket signs were horrible to flaunt out in public, there was one in particular that hit Rigby the most.

"GOD HATES FAGS".

Although Rigby was an atheist, he believed that if there were any "God" that created everyone and everything, he or she would love their creations as they loved themselves. Even if there were a paradise that the dead descended to after passing, those cursed of an eternal life in the Underworld due to their unruly doings is their ruler's decision, not theirs. And that included gays and lesbians and what not.

Rigby wanted so badly to curse at these idiots for being so ignorant to the people surrounding them. Those Westboro-Shitheads were just about the most horrible at being considerate for others. It was never Rigby's _fault_ that he was attracted to the same sex, he was born that way. Not that he hated girls, (Aside from the whore "starve-yourself-in-order-to-look-pretty" models, he hated them. And not to mention the ever-famous and busty Margaret) he just... didn't _love _them in that way. Nevertheless, he was excellent at hiding his orientation; especially from his best -and only- friend.

Though Mordecai had no idea to which gender Rigby was interested in, he understood why Rigby acted somewhat rude toward most people, even though it pissed Mordecai off to a certain degree. Ever since Rigby's father left his family for reasons unknown, he was always a tad socially awkward. The coon's mother had told Mordecai this reason alone, knowing that he would understand -somehow- that Rigby's personality would never be the same toward strangers. And Mordecai did understand. With Rigby having to be the brother living in the shadow of his younger sibling, _and _without a father, is a pretty crappy lifestyle.

Rigby's father left his family at a particularly early time. Don was five years old, and Rigby was eight when he fled for reasons unknown. Two and-a-half years later, their father came back. Whenever they had any form of contact, young Don would always question, "Why do you have to leave, daddy? Can't you just stay forever?"

Rigby knew deep in his heart that their dad would never stay. Hell, he left in the first place, didn't he? The little coon made himself admire his father all his life, but for _what _reason? That's right, _none. _Their "dad" abandoned his own family, probably for some ghetto skank down south or something. Rigby tried and tried to brainwash himself to detest his dad, but, he knew for a fact that he loved his father with all his heart, even if he made a huge and unforgivable mistake.

Their dad truly loved his sons, and he supported their mother through fluent child support payments, but that couldn't hide the problems he had. During the summer of 1998, when Rigby was ten years old, his father came back to visit one last time. But, he didn't arrive with good intentions. Their father desired to murder their mother for the money that he "wasted" on his children, bringing his hunting knife along with him. Their mother knew pretty good self-defense, however, and called the cops after a few punches were landed on each of them. Their mother was left with a black eye and a deep gash on the side of her left forearm. And while all of this was going on, all Rigby and Don could do was look on from the shadows of their lost childhood.

Still, Rigby hid his sexual preference best by using easy ways out like calling their clerk "babe" at a cheap restaurant, or commenting on some woman's "lady pecs" once in a while. He just couldn't stand telling anyone other than his mother (who taught him to accept all orientations) and Don. He was too afraid that he would be hurt, either physically or emotionally. This was also another part of the reason that Rigby didn't like other people.

_But,_ Rigby thought mockingly, _Margaret just _has _to be the only exception for my "annoying" behavior... being "the most amazing person Mordecai has ever met"..._

The small raccoon averted his attention back to the TV. He saw on the screen one of the church's most fluent supporters, Shirley Phelps. She was an ugly and old-looking woman who almost always wore sunglasses outside and just /loved/ to interrupt anyone who would say a word to her about the group's beliefs. Her hair was thin, and colored a mixture of white and gray. Her voice was nasally and shrill. She was disgusting.

_Witch…_ Rigby thought.

Rigby was just about to open his mouth to oppose what was going on inside the TV and suggest changing the channel when the jay beside him unexpectedly interrupted his action.

"God," Mordecai mumbled (almost inaudibly), slumping on the couch, "That bitch is crazy. The whole church is crazy..."

Rigby's ears perked, _…what?_

"...People can't help the fact that they're gay or straight or whatever... Jesus _Christ,_ those people are idiots. If they're going to Heaven, I hope 'God' sends me to Hell..." Mordecai groaned in displeasure.

_Wait,_ Rigby thought, _Is Mordecai actually standing up for gays? Is that what he really believes...? Then... there just might be a chance..._

"...-by... Rigby!"

"...Huh?"

"Oh, you were in the zone for a little there. I thought you were dead." Mordecai laughed at his misunderstanding. Rigby must have looked like a loser, with his face red and his eyes faintly glistening with hope. If there were one thing that he wasn't very good at controlling, it'd be his facial expressions.

"...Sorry, Mordecai. I was just thinking about something." Rigby said, snickering through his teeth as an attempt to hide his feelings. Mordecai was only mumbling to himself anyway. Rigby wasn't supposed to hear what he said, but it made him so damn happy that he did. He could feel his heart relax in content as a small fraction of his worry was relieved.

"Well, what?", Mordecai asked.

"What?"

"What were 'ya thinking about?"

Rigby's heart began to jump. He couldn't just flat out _tell_ his broseph that he actually was _in love_ with him. It just wouldn't work that way.

_Would it?_ Rigby's conscience asked dryly.

Rigby grumbled, _It wouldn't._

_And why do you think that?_

_'Cause he loves Margaret..._

His mind chuckled, _You sure?_

Rigby paused and found his eyes slowly traveling down to his toes resting on the coffee table.

_...Y-yeah._ He replied.

"Hey Mordecai..."

"Yeah? What's up?"

Rigby swallowed hard, "I-I..." he trailed off, still looking at his feet.

"You... What?" Mordecai asked, furrowing his brow, confused.

_God, spit it out!_

Mordecai leaned forward in his seat a little in order to get a closer look at his friend, "Rigby... Are you _crying?"_

Rigby quietly gasped and placed a paw to his face. Mordecai was right, he /was/ crying. What the hell? Rigby only cried in front of Mordecai a few times, but not for this reason. Rigby gritted his teeth and quickly turned away from Mordecai. He was twenty-three years old... He wasn't going to let his bro see that he was shedding tears so easily, nor was he going to reveal the reason. He responded with a monotone "No."

"Rigby, are you okay?" Mordecai asked, standing up, "You've been acting sort of weird lately. It's like I can't even get to you anymore. Look, if you've got something to say, then just-"

"Why do you love Margaret?"

Mordecai's mouth sealed shut in response. He was astonished. Rigby was going to act like an asshole _now?_ Why was Rigby asking him something like _that,_ and at _this_ time? What the hell was wrong with him?

"...Wh-why are _you _always butting into my personal life?" was the only response Mordecai could think of.

Rigby looked back at him, clearly frustrated, "Because _you're_ part of _my _life! You're my _best friend. _ We're _supposed_ to talk to each other, that's what friends do!"

Mordecai was getting angry now, "Well, Margaret isn't any part of your life! And since /when/ do you care about her anyway? I might not know what you're feeling towards her, but-"

Rigby chuckled loudly and glared at his friend, saying, "You want to know how _I _feel about that bitch...? I'll tell ya', buddy; She's the most annoying, slutty, dumb piece-of-crap I've ever laid my eyes on, and you should stop trying to impress her so damn much! She doesn't even _care_ about you," Rigby smiled, irritated, fire in his eyes, "All she sees when she looks at you is a guy who can't even form a sentence around her. And, when has she even _considered_ your feelings like I-"

_Slap._

Mordecai's feathered hand collided with Rigby's face painfully, making the coon's eyes be averted to the left along with his face. When he looked back, however, he saw Mordecai's expression filled with rage as angry tears flowed out of his eyes.

_Think of me when you're out, when you're out there._

"Don't you _ever_ talk about her that way..."

Rigby looked into Mordecai's eyes and felt his mouth's perimeter widen as he began to cry harder than he was before, gritting his teeth, "And why can't I?"

"...You have no right..." Mordecai said to Rigby before turning and walking to the door, and once again, he repeated, "You have no fucking right..."

_I'll beg you nice from my knees._

The door slammed and Rigby was left alone on the couch. His eyes traveled down to his feet again and his head ached, much like his heart did, as he wept harder. Like the night before. He clutched the remote in his hands and chucked it at the ground, making it collide with Mordecai's game controller. The device broke into several pieces, with plastic and a few parts from the inside scattered onto the floor.

_And when the world treats you way too fairly._

Rigby noticed his fault, ran over to the controller, picked up the pieces into his paws and sorted them into a pile. He scampered into the kitchen and looked for the tape. Once he found it he ran back and tried desperately to put the controller back together.

_Well it's a shame I'm a dream._

Warm tears fell to the ground. Rigby didn't quit. He just kept trying to put the parts back together. His paws were shaky, and so was his voice.

"I can fix this... I can fix it, Mordecai..."

_All I wanted was you._

_All I wanted was you..._


	2. Chapter 2 Loneliness

**So, we meet again, dear reader.**

**I've missed you.**

***brick'd***

**Let me just say that I am truly, truly sorry for the super long wait. You've no clue how much it eats me up inside, having people wait to my expense. ;~; ITS BEEN OVER A MONTH FML.**

**But, as I said in my bio, I WILL get my shit done. Guarunteed.**

**I really really appreciate all of the nice reviews you guys give me3. Including the subs and favorites and all that good shit. it really makes me happy... :)**

**I'll be sure to update sooner or later, school's ending soon.**

***fistpumps* Shit yeah! No school = more writing / drawing~**

**I apologize for any indication of anyone being OOC, if this story contains any hint of that, it was not intended in any way.**

**There's an OC in this chapter [I couldn't think of a good name, back off, deary.] so be prepared. Don't worry, no OC pairings here. I'm not really into that stuff most of the time... [just to be clear, it is pronounced "MAR-go".]**

**Also, I've mustered a Higurashi fic a while back as well, I'm just too lazy to upload it OTL. so, hopefully you'll be able to enjoy that sometime, if... if you're into that type of stuff... -_-'**

**It's 1:15 am. Time for Maggie to go to bed.**

**Alrighty, next chapter commencing... Enjoy. :D**

* * *

><p>Saturday, June 9<p>

_Dammit,_ I thought, _dammit, dammit, dammit!_

I ran downtown as fast as I could once I was no longer in sight of the house. I didn't want Rigby to see how pissed off I actually was; although he saw enough, I was crying anyway. Jeez, why did I let him get to me? Shit. I didn't even feel like crying anymore, but at that moment the tears just... came, I dunno. For the first time in my adult life, the situation just got to me. That last time I actually cried was way back in junior high.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Mordecai."<p>

Rigby sat next to me at the lunch table before anyone else would be able to steal his seat. He opened the brown paper bag that held his lunch and pulled out a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.

"Hey, dude. Got any food?" I questioned, hoping that he'd give me his bag of chips. He did, surprisingly, which was unusual because he was all the more greedy in seventh grade than he is now.

As I tore open the plastic holding the salt and vinegar potato chips when Trevor and Owen -two of our school's many douchebags- sat in the empty chairs across from Rigby and I.

Rigby glared at them in mid-chew, "What do you guys want?"

"So, are the rumors about you guys true?" Owen asked, snickering.

"What? There's rumors?" I asked, crunching down on my food. Usually I didn't care about that sort of stuff, but because I was so alienated due to Rigby's separation issues, I was curious. Although, I was kind of scared to know what /these two/ had in store for us, anyway; not only for myself, but for Rigby as well. I tried to hide my urge to find out, but I knew it wouldn't last for long.

"Yep. There's a bunch going around the class right now," Trevor returned.

"Just go away, Trevor. We don't care-"

Rigby interuppted me, asking suspiciously, "Like what?"

"Well, that you two are faggots," Owen told us as Trevor gave up at attempting to keep his cool and burst into obnoxious laughter that echoed throughout the cafeteria. I couldn't believe it. Rigby and I? Gay? Wow, were people immature these days. Why would they even make stuff like that up? I couldn't believe-

"Like you guys know anything about things like that anyway!" Rigby shouted, pointing at them, "You two wouldn't be able to get /laid/ you if you were the last two guys on earth!" He was furious, and his face was flushed in anger. The two kept on laughing, pleased at Rigby's reaction,

"Look, Rigbone. We don't want any trouble," Owen said, sarcastically putting his hands up in surrender, "Please, don't buttfuck us." The two burst into immature laughter. Their horrible, tormenting snickering flooded throughout the room. Their evil faces twisted in contentment.

"I'll kill you!" Rigby yelled as he leapt onto the table and grabbed Owen's neck firmly in his furry hands. His eyes were teary and his self-esteem was weakening, I could tell that. I decided to jump in, too. I mean, they were being dicks, what else was I supposed to do? It's not like I would just sit there and watch. Also, why would they spread things around about Rigby and I anyway? We had always been outsiders, never wanting to get involved in shit like this. Although, it seems to always find you no matter what. Trevor glared at me evilly and said to me, straight in the eye, "How could you do him anyway? I mean, _Rigby_? Come on, Mordecai. You could do better."

I snapped at that. Not that I _was_ in fact gay with anyone, but for him to insult my best friend like that? Reactivity got the best of my actions and I jumped onto Trevor, causing him to fall straight on his back. I frequently landed punch after punch onto his face, uncaring to who saw. I glanced at Rigby and Owen somewhere inbetween and saw my friend struggling to defend himself. He tried to punch Owen like I was doing Trevor, but that obviously didn't work. Rigby quickly went back to attempting to strangle Owen with his bare paws. It actually dominated for a few moments, cutting off the bully's air supply for a bit, but Rigby was soon socked in the face by Owen, throwing him to the ground.

I tried to slam my fist onto Trevor's chest to finish the fight, but I was halted by Owen's sinister voice in my ears.

"You'd better save your boyfriend, Mordecai. I think he passed out."

I glared at him, and said, "Fuck you," which suprisingly made him back off. I tried to help Rigby up, but once I let go of his hand and he plopped back onto the floor. I quickly scooped Rigby up in my arms and ran him to the school office. As I was running away, however, I heard the other guys in the lunchroom chanting, "Faggots" and "Cocksuckers" repeatedly. They were so full of bullshit. I told myself that over and over again, but their words somehow got to me anyway. My eyes started to water and my vision began to blur as tears dripped from my eyes down to Rigby. I heard him say something to me. I looked at him and saw his condition. He had a bloody nose and his muscles were limp.

"Mordecai..."

"What?" I asked, my voice breaking.

"...I really hate our classmates."

I chuckled weakly, running through what felt like a ten-mile sprint down an endless road.

"Me too, Rigby."

* * *

><p>I sighed at that remembrance.<p>

As I ran as fast as I could down the sidewalk, I looked at the giant clock poking out of the sporting goods store down on the curb, which told me it was 6:13 at night. Although it was pretty early for it to get dark out, the sun already began to set for it's post meridian rounds. Turning, I made a right down a cracked sidewalk. My speed narrowed down to a walk and I soon started to glance around my environment. I was at the back part of town, indication being the tremendous amounts of graffiti, the parked, rusty cars and little amount of people (which, I have to say looked pretty different, with all of the ghetto-induced "gangsters" to the "I-look-unique-because-I'm-scene" couples holding hands and glaring at you like you're some type of hybrid creature.).

I looked down the dirt road that I was walking along when I found a small hill overlooking the powdery mainland. It had a little dirt, but was mostly covered in grass. As I progressed closer I saw a figure sitting on it's lightly slanted edge. It was a feminine being, slightly slouched over with her elbows resting on her knees. She was gazing into the scenery before her like it was nobody's business, and her hair looked a little greasy, probably from the sun. She must have been outside all day. The girl looked young, probably about freshman or even sophomore material. She might have gotten out of school a few hours ago, why was she here? She should be home.

_Why not?_ I thought, planning on confronting her, _I should get to know more people anyway._

I walked to the edge of the hill, hoping she would take note of me without causing to startle her. Soon enough, she glanced down as she took note of her untied shoes. She officially saw me when she leaned over to tie her Chuck Taylor's appropriately. I waved casually and my arm slapped against my leg after I put it back down.

"Hello," she said with a smile. Her voice was quiet, which said that she was unsure to speak to a stranger or not. She averted her gaze back to whatever she was looking at.

"Nice day today, huh?" I asked.

She nodded, still keeping her smile and looking in the same direction, "Yeah. I really like the sun. You get so freaking tired of the cold after a few months," she chuckled.

She wanted to start a conversation, I could tell, "I'm Mordecai," I told her, holding out my wing.

She looked back at me, took my feathery fingers in her right hand and shook it, her grip loose, "Margot."

I looked at her closer, her hair was a light brown, with one purple highlight and one green. She wore a dark blue sweatshirt and jeans shorts. Her sweatshirt was half-zipped, revealing a Pokemon t-shirt with one of the characters on the front... Pikachu? Yeah, that was it. On her left hand was a Batman logo tattoo. Also, if you looked on her right side, there was a thick sketchbook with a mechanical pencil lying on it. An artist, probably. I sat down next to her, still keeping my distance.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Twenty-three."

"Jeez, I'm only fourteen, I feel so young..." she laughed at her own joke, "Almost all of my friends are older than me. I was born in May, so it kind of sucks."

She was younger than I expected. She looked like she could be at the very least a sixteen-year-old. I got the vibe that she would talk quite a bit too, not that I didn't mind "Ah, that sounds pretty bad."

"Yeah..." she nooded, "Do you have a job?"

"Yep... I'm a groundskeeper at the park. With my friend," I pointed in the direction of where I was talking about.

"Oh, I've been there. It's really fun."

_Yeah, the only reason you think that is because you don't work there..._

She continued, "My friend and I go there a lot. If you ever see me and a red-haired girl, that's us. We're like, regulars. Do you know a dude named Skips?"

I guess she _was_ a regular, knowing Skips and all, "Yeah, but he's so damn quiet! You can never talk to him without feeling awkward..."

"Sure, he's got a pretty stale voice, but once you get on his good side, he's just awesome. We're really good friends," she smiled again.

"Hm, hm," I nodded. Margot laughed, she seemed to have the quality to do that a lot.

"So, how is work there? Is it fun?"

"Nah, it's okay," I looked at the sky, "Sometimes there's... drama, though. And here I am when I used to think that girls had it rough."

"I get 'cha, guy drama's on the same level as girl drama, once you think about it," Margot sighed, annoyed, "Either way, it sucks..."

"Are you having some issues?" I asked her, kind of concerned.

She shook her head, her voice back to quiet mode, "No, not really... Kind of."

"That's not good," I replied, not wanting to butt in on her personal life.

"Are you? You seem stressed out..."

I tightened my jaw for a second there, but loosened it when I was ready to talk, "Its a long story."

She faced me a little, "I'm all ears," she said.

I took a deep breath, and hesitantly told her about what was going on with Rigby and I. I first informed her on how we rented some video games and decided to play. Then I told her about how I may have liked Margaret (I still do, mind you.), and I told her that Rigby did that random shit back at home, not to mention what commenced afterwards. I could tell she was listening, with all of the eye contact and occasional nodding at what I said here and there.

"Okay," she began slowly, after I was finished, "That freaking sucks, dude. I'm not gonna take sides or anything, but I honestly think that you should-"

Margot jumped as her phone screeched the lyrics to "All to Myself" by Mariana's Trench. She pressed the green button on its front and answered the call.

"Hi, mom!" she answered cheerfully.

I could head muffled yells through the receiveing end, "Margot Rae! Where are you? I've been looking for twenty mintues!"

"Sorry! I'm at the hill. Y'know, the one by the cemetery?" Margot replied, "I'll be home in a few minutes, promise."

Her mom hung up.

"Didn't even say goodbye..." Margot grumbled, "Well, I have to go... Sorry that I had to get off my ass earlier than I expected."

"No," I replied, "It's fine. I understand."

She stood up at that, shook my hand again, grabbed her stuff in her arms and headed on her way.

As I was getting ready to get up, too, Margot suddenly turned to me, halting in mid-walk.

"Hey, Mordecai..."

"Yeah?"

She paused for a moment, then gave a small smile, with her voice somewhat deeper, but not too sinister. Her genuine vibe was still there, faintly, as she spoke.

"Hope you two get the lawn done."

I slowly thanked her, awkwardly stuck in a pose that said, "What the hell?"

I never told her about the lawn being incomplete.

* * *

><p>I was walking. Walking to nowhere. I was in a void of nothing. All of my surroundings were painted a pale grey to the point of being unable to see where the wall ended and where the floor began. I strode slowly down my invisible path, my paws hitting the ground gently. My eyes were tired and my fear was growing inside my chest. It made my breathing a tad deeper and my pulse beat a tiny bit faster, but not to the point of exhaustion. I had no idea what I was afraid of... yet. Suddenly, I stopped in my tracks.<p>

I stared at my feet for a while before I glanced up. There, just barely twenty feet away from me, was Mordecai. I peered into his eyes, they weren't tear-filled, but sincere. His beak wasn't long and disappointed, he was faintly... smiling. He wasn't mad at me anymore. Why? Did he forgive me? No, he couldn't have. Although he is a very forgiving guy, he wouldn't just up and accept the dumbass actions I had stumbled upon recently.

Soon I noticed another figure slowly appear next to Mordecai; one all-too familiar to my liking. The fear deep inside of my chest grew stronger. Fear slowly pulled itself out of my back and started to gradually emerge itself around me. It's color was a purple-black, swirling in sinister loops that didn't make me feel comfortable at all. My tail sprung straight up in anxiety. I looked and saw what was going up next to Mordecai. My fear enhanced itself and made my whole body shake as my heart began to race. I noticed that the grey setting around me had turned to a pitch and emotionless black. I stared at the figure.

Margaret.

I shuddered. All I could really do was just stand there. I wanted to move, but I just couldn't. My body refused to respond to what my brain commanded it to do. The dark swirls started to slowly wrap around my waist as Margaret took Mordecai's arm, holding it to her chest as the two turned walked away. In the turn that he made, Mordecai was smiling, like he was happy again. He was happy without me.

Immediately after he turned to face the other way I screamed. I screamed as loud as I could into the black void that I was trapped in, just trying to get Mordecai to notice my pain, my fear. My best and only great friend took this dumb girl over his bro. Mordecai looked back at me, surprisingly, and gently pushed Margaret away from him. Maybe he actually cared.

Mordecai approached me until he was relatively close to me and stared into my eyes. His stare was frightening, bone-chilling, even. I had never seen him like that before, not until when we argued previously.

Mordecai looked at me nonstop, like one of our famous staring contests we had every now and again. Now, his pupils were absent to his eyes for a moment, which made his eyes seem to glow a pale white. He remained like this and said in a loud voice, straight to my face:

"I can't believe you! You can't keep living like this, Rigby. If you're going to ruin me like this then just keep away!"

Mordecai dissappeared immediately at these words. I saw from a distance Margaret smiling down on me with a horrid look in her eye. By then the fear was basically conquering my while body, clouding my vision.

"You're dying inside."

* * *

><p>I apparently fell asleep on the ground trying to fix Mordecai's controller; I was overwhelmed "to the point of exhaustion", some may say. I woke up in a daze at first, peeling my eyes open slowly and becoming aware of the small puddle of droll next to my mouth.<p>

I picked my head up off the floor slowly, blinking repeatedly to regain conciousness. I looked around the living room, hoping that it all was a dream, but to my demise, it wasn't. I was still stuck in this damn house with the same damn feeling in my throat... And I still didn't finish fixing Mordecai's controller.

Speaking of which, I glanced over in it's direction. It was sloppily pieced together by Scotch tape and had a couple holes and deep cracks in it. Only half of it was "finished". I sighed and let my head fall back exhaustedly to the floor. It hurt a little as my cranium collided with the ground, but anything was better than the pain in my chest. I felt so hollow, and yet these emotions were flowing into me like a flood, filling my soul. But in some way, it was also pouring out of me like something just needed to get out of there. There is no feeling worse than feeling nothing and everything altogether.

_You cannot explain a feeling like that._

After several minutes, I lazily picked myself up off the ground and let my tail drag across the floor as I walked to the kitchen. The tile's icy feeling radiated throughout my feet and sent an uncomfortable chill down my spine. I looked at the room lethargically. It was the same as which Mordecai and I left it; with our cereal bowls from this morning still on the table, and the dishes still dirty. I sighed. I might as well gotten some work done while I was here. I pushed one of the chairs from the table in front of the sink for easy access. As I hopped up onto the seat, I began to scrub and rinse the dishes, the cups, the silverware, the... knives.

_No, _I quickly thought to myself, shaking my head, _no, no, no, Rigby. Mordecai wouldn't like you doing that._

_Mordecai also wouldn't like you interfering on his and Margaret's relationship._

I grumbled, "Shut up," to my conscience.

I looked down at the dishes and sighed. Six plates, eight glasses, and God knows how much silverware was left dirty in there. I never realized how lazy we actually were. I laughed dryly. Ironic how once Mordecai leaves me I actually become the least bit responsible. I pictured Benson to be extremely pleased with me, and angry at the fact that Mordecai left.

But I couldn't be too cruel to Mordecai, because I still had some ounce of sympathy for the dude. As pissed off and frustrated as I was now, I somehow couldn't get myself to direct those emotions towards him.

I was down to the last dish, and after that I proceeded to the silverware. There was a lot down there in the soapy water, sunken deep onto the bottom of the sink, mixing in with the residue from the past plates. It was pretty nasty, but what was I gonna do about that? I could have sworn my arm went all the way into the dirty liquid before I could reach a fork or two.

I got to most of them, but checked again just to be sure and get this crap over with. I couldn't find any yet-

"...Ow," I muttered as I felt a tiny pain in my index finger. I brought my hand out of the water and looked at it. Nothing looked out of the ordinary until I noticed I was bleeding.

I must have had contact with one of the kitchen knives, because I soon took note of a relatively small but deep gash in my finger. I stared at it, expecting for it to stop bleeding. But it didn't even hesitate. This was expected to be pretty annoying.

I was never gonna get these chores done alone.

•••

**Thanks for reading! C: you're awesome for being awesome and wasting your time on my fic. :D**

**Third chapter will be here soon. Hopefully it will arrive faster than this one did OTL**

**There will be much more to come, and much more occurrences. I deeply apologize for the long wait and the possibility of this chapter being somewhat boring. ...I'm still getting used to this site. **

**I do not own Regular Show.**

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